


Count Down

by wonderfulchaos



Series: A World of Pleasant Memories [5]
Category: Servamp (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Burn, roommate au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 03:46:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9417140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderfulchaos/pseuds/wonderfulchaos
Summary: They say good things come to those who wait, but sometimes it isn’t easy on the person doing the waiting.





	1. Step One

The thing about living in close quarters with someone, Mahiru noticed, was that it required getting used to all the little things about someone - and in this case, someone he barely knew. At the very least, they were both starting from scratch.

His roommate had seemed standoffish in the beginning. Resentment toward having to share a room with a stranger so late into the semester probably. There was no helping it, though; his uncle had been transferred overseas for a job and had insisted Mahiru apply for the dormitory. It was lucky that they had a few vacancies, which led to the here and now.

It didn’t deter Mahiru at all. They were in different classes, but he bridged the gap by asking something new every day. His roommate, who he eventually learned was named Sakuya, made it easy too. Always with the same pair of headphones, drowning out the world. Mahiru often wondered what he was hiding from, but that was the one topic he refused to bring up. Instead, he would ask about what Sakuya was listening to at any given moment and slowly they began to bond.

After weeks of building trust, it didn’t feel unnatural when Mahiru didn’t ask one day, simply crashed onto Sakuya bed and pressed his ear up his new friend’s earphones, calling out the name of the band before he could be told. “Listening to screamo, huh? What’s bothering you?” Needless to say, one of the other things he had learned about Sakuya through process of elimination was how much his music reflected particular moods. He had also learned to nip things in the bud before they bloomed into sad, sad songs.

Sakuya gave a shrug and slouched down further in his hoodie, mumbling, “It’s nothing.”

“It’s something,” decided Mahiru, resolute. He knocked shoulders with his friend and told him, “You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to, but I’ll listen when you’re ready.”

Casting his gaze to the ceiling, Sakuya appeared to consider it and then broke out into a grin, straightening up and slinging one of his arms around Mahiru. “Well, if you insist,” he started, “I suppose I must.”

“Uh, no,” Mahiru stared at the hand brushing against his chest, brow furrowed, “you don’t have to make up a story to humor me, you know?”

A flicker of surprise appeared on Sakuya’s face before it disappeared. “You don’t say.”

“Yeah, don’t force yourself.” He grabbed a hold of his friend’s hand before it could be retracted and placed it over his heart, tilting his head back with a tiny smile. “I can wait. It’s what friends do.”

He was hoping it was only his imagination that Sakuya grimaced at that. “Right, friends. Spectacular.”

“Hey!” Mahiru puffed up his cheeks, mock angry. “What’s that supposed to mean!”

Pinching one of those cheeks, Sakuya told him, “It means you sound stupid. Come on, _friend_ , let’s go grab a bite to eat. My treat.”

“Okay,” agreed Mahiru. It was a good distraction, after all.


	2. Step Two

Mahiru grabbed a towel out of his bag and had a seat on the floor of the gym, panting. It was raining outside, so the track and field team had managed to squeeze in some practice time here before the other sports teams were scheduled to switch with them. A short but intensive practice, and he hadn’t had one of those since middle school. It was nice, and it took his mind off of what was troubling him.

At the moment, that trouble was where he stood with his roommate. Things had smoothed out, maybe a little too much, and now he was left wondering if Sakuya was putting on an act for his sake. He didn’t want things to be awkward, but neither did he want Sakuya to feel like he had to pretend to be someone he wasn’t.

He patted the sweat from his brow and hung his head as he breathed out sharply. No matter how hard he tried with Sakuya, it felt like they were taking two steps back for every one step they took forward. It was frustrating, because he didn’t know what the problem was and Sakuya wasn’t being forthcoming about it. That left him to his imagination, and considering how quickly Sakuya pulled away sometimes, he was getting the idea that he wasn’t as well liked as Sakuya insisted.

“Oi, Shirota, your boyfriend’s here!” Mahiru sat up at once and waved, since there was only one person his relay teammates referred to that way. He had already corrected them over and over, after seeing how uncomfortable it made Sakuya, but they continued on to this day. Still, the fact that Sakuya kept tracking him down to walk back to their room together must have meant it didn’t bother him that much. Then again, he had to wonder what the red to his friend’s cheeks meant. Perhaps he was missing something.

“I just need to do some cool-down stretches,” Mahiru told him when he made his way over. “Then we can go.”

“No rush,” shrugged Sakuya, taking Mahiru’s place on the floor and gesturing with his hand. “Entertain me.”

Rolling his eyes, Mahiru stretched out his arms first. He laced his fingers together and pushed his arms out, relishing in the strain it put on the base of his fingers and the muscles in his arms. He raised his interlocked hands, stretched out as they were, above his head and then leaned to one side, counting in his head. He switched to the other side with a contented little sigh, and then bent down to touch his toes. Once the count was up for that, he peeked at Sakuya, who was watching him with rapt fascination.

He didn’t know why, but he felt his cheeks grow warmer than they had been from the workout earlier. With speed, he looked away and redirected his attention to sitting down, to cooling down his leg muscles. He spread his legs and reached for one foot at a time, arching over to go the distance. He didn’t glance at Sakuya again, but he knew he was being watched and that sent a strange thrill through him. He sort of hoped Sakuya would never look away. Somehow, quiet moments like this seemed the most honest, less spoken and more felt.

The problem was that without words Mahiru didn’t know how to deal with it. Since he was a child, he had been taught to give a name to his feelings if it helped, and it did help. This one, though, what did he call it?

When he was done, he reached for the towel he had discarded before stretching. It was already held out for him to take. By Sakuya, who had a sly smile in place. “You sure know how to entertain,” he joked.

Mahiru wiped what was left of the sweat on his face and then promptly threw the smelly towel at his friend, right in the face. “Oh, shut it. I didn’t want to get stiff!”

“Stiff?” Sakuya pulled the cloth away from him, pretending to gag as he held it at arms length. “Mahiru, no inappropriate activities on school premises,” he scolded in a fake teacher voice, “that sort of beheavior is for the bedroom.” He wiggled his eyebrows until Mahiru reached out and gave him a playful shove.

“Come on, Sakuya, let’s get out of here.”

“You’re not going to shower?” Pinching his nose and waving a hand, Sakuya told him, “You could really use one, buddy.”

“Oh, so sorry, did you want to join me?” He meant it as an insult, that Sakuya didn’t smell like sunshine and daisies either, but then he realized that it could also be an invitation. His face lit up like a fireworks display and he hastily tried to say, “I didn’t mean -”

Sakuya cleared his throat and chose to ignore that, even if his own face had colored ten times more than usual and there was something Mahiru couldn’t put a name to in his expression. “Yeah, let’s get going,” Sakuya decided, “we have plenty of time for that sort of thing later.”

That sounded more open-ended than Mahiru was willing to look into. He thought it best to leave that alone for now, too. Maybe one day they’d be comfortable enough to talk about what was a joke and what wasn’t. Today wasn’t that day, though.


	3. Step Three

For the cultural festival, there had been a stir among the students. Some insisted that the more popular clubs should be entitled to the better rooms, the better locations for guests to visit, and others were against this and thought equality was more suited for this day and age. When the pleas went unheard, there was only one choice for Mahiru to make: to help support those who were left out.

He made posters with aid from the manga club, drafted a petition with a little flair from the drama club, and even came up with a shirt design for those who wanted to show off where they stood thanks to the sewing club. It felt good to do something that to him seemed so simple in the end. The means made way for what he wanted to accomplish and that was how he liked things to go.

That being the case, he didn’t think on the negative side too much and that inevitably left him a bit floored when confronted with the opposition. The other clubs, the ones that wanted things to go their way, made sure to taunt him as they ripped the signatures he had gained to bits and pieces, crumbling them to be caught in the wind and blown away.

It didn’t stop there either. One of the taller boys pushed him. And as luck would have it, there was a rock right behind him which made him trip. He fell to the ground, surrounded by the pieces of paper that had yet to escape, wincing as he felt pain jolt up his arm from the impact. His back had collided painfully with the pebble-ridden ground, too; but he didn’t feel that as much as the stinging in his elbow.

When he checked, it was bleeding. He didn’t have much time to register much else as a shadow fell over him and he flinched back, wary. He realized a little late that he had nothing to be scared of, as in front of him was Sakuya with his hand outstretched to him. His friend, he noticed, had bruises on knuckles that didn’t add up with his pristine white appearance. Around them, as Mahiru took in the scene further, the group was beginning to dissipate. Some with red marks accompanying their faces.

Needless to say, he was relieved to see them go, but - “Sakuya, that wasn’t necessary.” He could have figured it out without resorting to violence, he wanted to believe, but the flat look Sakuya gave him read: _Yeah, and how's that working for you?_  

Bowing his head, he dragged his foot back, toeing at the dirt as he held his injured arm with his other hand. “Well, thanks,” he admitted, because his ego had already taken a beating, he might as well be honest, “I appreciate you … standing up for me.”

In response, Sakuya placed his hand on the small of his back and guided him away from the petition stand, sighing out, “You’re such a reckless guy.” There seemed to be a ‘I told you so’ that wanted to follow in its wake, but it went unsaid - and for that, Mahiru was grateful. He felt too sore and tired to argue with that one.

“I’ll help you get bandaged up,” Sakuya added once they arrived in the nurse’s office. If Mahiru didn’t know any better, he would have thought the nurse had been chased away for this very moment, because Sakuya’s smug smile seemed to shout, _Victory_ , from the top of his lungs. “Why don’t you take off your shirt, so I can see the damage?”

Scoffing and pointing to his arm, Mahiru denied the suggestion. “I don’t think so. Look, it’s just my arm. Let’s make this quick, so I can get back to work.”

Sakuya tapped his chin, thinking, before reaching out and tugging the shirt up in the back. His eyes narrowed at what he saw there and Mahiru asked, “What?” Concerned now that it had been brought it his attention. “Is it bad?”

“Ghastly,” replied Sakuya, “take it off.”

Reaching down, Mahiru was about to do just that. Except that was when the stinging pain from earlier made itself known again and he halted mid-action, his grimace frozen in place as he pleaded for Sakuya to, “Help me.” He had thought it a myth that someone’s eyes could go that wide and he nearly laughed if the pain wasn’t overriding everything else. “Sakuya?”

With a hesitant motions, Sakuya moved closer, his hands a faint tremor as they pulled the shirt up from the front this time. Mahiru held up his arms as far as they would go, still hurting but trying to get it over with all the same. For whatever reason, Sakuya was taking his time, dragging the shirt half over his head before pausing and letting out a sigh that was near enough to make his skin shiver.

Before Mahiru could question him, the shirt was off and discarded, and Sakuya was turning away. From what he could see, his friend was searching for ointment for the bruises on his back, and he let him. Since he also came back with bandages and disinfectant for his arm, properly doing as he said he would and fixing up the damage that had been done. He couldn’t help but notice, “You’re really good at this,” and he was going to thank him again, but Sakuya’s grip on his arm tightened and there was a sudden heaviness to the air that stole his breath away.

When his eyes met Sakuya’s, he realized his mistake too late. “I didn’t mean -”

“It’s nothing,” brushed off Sakuya, ridiculous grin in place regardless of the tight edges to his smile, “I suppose I am.” Hanging his head, Mahiru wasn’t sure what to say next, but Sakuya saved him from it, ruffling his hair with a laugh that didn’t seem out of place and yet wasn’t. “Stop worrying, Mahiru! Really, it’s fine. You’re going to have gray hair before you’re twenty at this rate. Now, turn around. I’m going to see to your back now.”

Trusting that to be the case, Mahiru turned and let him apply the ointment. Not without pitching in his own remark of, “Well, if someone would stop worrying me, that wouldn’t happen! Jeez, idiot, how much do you think I worry about you?”

The ministrations to his back ceased and Sakuya’s hand was tilting his chin to the side instead, bringing them face to face on the question, “Is that true?”

“I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t the tru -” He was crushed into a hug before he could even finish the worth “truth”, and he pretended to grumble about how much it hurt. Though he was smiling. Whether Sakuya saw or not, whether Sakuya believed or not, it was the truth to them. Right in that moment. It was what mattered to them.


End file.
